


The Time and The Season

by Barfily, orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: M/M, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-13
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-01-29 23:11:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21418228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barfily/pseuds/Barfily, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jihoon falls in love, all the time, and one day he starts to notice.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon, Boo Seungkwan/Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Kim Mingyu/Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 29
Kudos: 116





	1. Egg Pies are Baking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole fic was inspired by this exchange:
> 
> **DN**: [The8] is sensitive to noise.  
[...]  
**WZ**: But that's part of The8's romantic trait. Because he has his own roman, and his own mood is very important... he cares about his surroundings...  
**HOST**: Woozi-san, your comment just now, "it's romantic." What about that is romantic?  
**WZ**: ...  
**HS**: I think that's why Woozi's the one to write lyrics for Seventeen's songs.  
_Sebuchi TV Series - Up! Close E. 3_

Jihoon wasn't so much shorter than the rest of them when they first met.

He wasn't _tall_, but he didn't stick out or anything. Someone was inevitably going to be the shortest, and after the younger boys hit puberty properly, it was clear it would be Jihoon, and that was that. 

It became more pronounced as time went on, though. They were all growing, but every millimeter Jihoon gained was a tiny, wheezing gasp. Everyone else grew in explosive bursts, becoming lankier and longer in generous inches at a time, so fast that they complained about cramps in their limbs, started taking oddly timed naps in the afternoons to recover, becoming clumsy as they had to constantly relearn where their arms and legs ended, now.

Jihoon watched, and as the rest of his members started to become towers around him, he found himself becoming truly tiny. 

It was unpleasant then, and it is still unpleasant today. 

There was a time when a touch from friends was familiar, thoughtless, taken for granted. But as their bodies changed so drastically, skinship became invasive, the touch of a stranger. It wasn't his friend's thin arm around his waist, Jihoon wasn't pouncing on the familiar, narrow shape of his friend's back. It was the broad, wide back of a man. Wonwoo had the body of a man, Seungcheol was unmistakably becoming a man, even fragile Jeonghan was becoming something tall, adult, and refined. All of them were, and play fighting, rolled onto his back, pulled into the chest, sat on the lap of _men_, taller than him, and usually stronger than him – it sets his teeth on edge.

It's irrational. They can't help it, he can't help it, no one _decided_ any of this, but it these touches - it feels like they're bragging. Rubbing it in his face. The difference between what they became and what he lacks.

Maybe if it was just in his head, if it was his own insecurity muttering in resentment to itself quietly, and that was all, he could've found the resolve to silence it, but no.

"So cute, Jihoonie~" a pinch of Jihoon's cheek before he can flinch away. 

"Our baby Jihoonie~" a surprise kiss on the top of his head. 

"Aah," Soonyoung, who is a man, sighs, fingers combing through Jihoon's hair as they wake up after sharing a bedmat together. No one could ever call Soonyoung a large or imposing man, but Jihoon feels the weight of his body, half on top of his own, larger, heavier, keenly. "You really are too cute, you know?"

"You'll have to learn to tolerate it, Jihoon," management says, and Jihoon's known that for some time, because that is the visual appeal he brings. For Seventeen's success, they need to have free access to it. Just like they need his singing and his dancing, his short stature, his round features, are a resource. 

Jihoon can't be selfish about the fact that people find him cute.

But not at home. None of that applies when they’re home. He doesn't owe it to anyone here, when it's just them, in their dorms. And at home, no. He does not like it. 

And even if sometimes – sometimes – _sometimes_, he wouldn't hate a hug, or a hand to hold, there are members who take an inch and run a mile. Who would assume because a quiet moment where he was tired, and he rested his head on their shoulder, would mean it was fair game to lift him from the ground in a bearhug in public. 

Of course Soonyoung is the worst offender, so he's a last resort. A hard, red, bright, **no** to skinship. Soonyoung has no sense of moderation, gets carried away even with Jihoon shooting him down each time Soonyoung tries, Jihoon can't imagine the kind of liberties he'd take if he encouraged it.

Jeonghan, Seokmin – Fine. Occasionally Hansol, too. Sometimes – sometimes Seungkwan. These are easy people for Jihoon to reach for the rare times he does want touch, the ones who welcome it, but also don't make him regret it later. They allow him to initiate, and they don't go any further than that. A few pinches on the cheek, a few teasing comments. That's to be expected. Fine.

Seungcheol – No. Even stronger than Soonyoung, because where Jihoon can tell – he's pretty sure – it's partly a game to Soonyoung, Seungcheol gets an almost eerie look in his eye when he thinks Jihoon is being cute, like he's watching a pet or something. He's shameless about it, it's unsettling, but, to his credit, he doesn't press when Jihoon keeps his distance. 

And this is the end of the story, by Jihoon's telling.

There's more, though, and it gets even worse - worse than hating the touch of men, Jihoon can no longer ignore the fact that... he also wants to be touched by men.

When he was younger, affection from a girl was an easy, painless fantasy. A girl's laugh, blushing under his attention, the floral and fruity scent of her shampoo, her gentle and careful touch... The sorts of things he should want to think about, and he had no objections to it. As he got older, his thoughts matured to women, and became more specific - their soft curves under his hands. Lips soft and wet. Their movements, their smiles. Something he admired and appreciated, but from a distance. He - imagines he'd be perfectly happy with it, and maybe if he had lived a another life, he would've gotten it, and never questioned otherwise.

But in this life, he's got more intimate, first hand experience with the strong lines of men's bodies. Their sharper angles and plains. The proud stretch of their shoulders. Low voices, large hands. The sweat running down a man's neck after a hard day of practice, and the natural, musky scent that comes with it. Eventually, Jihoon find his eyes lingering over the sharp definition of their stomachs, the suggestive lines of their hips, inviting stares to drop even further down than that... These fantasies are not easy, they're not painless, even thinking of them sends an embarrassed shiver across his mind, his very being, but Jihoon endures that, because the hot, twisted, knotted teasing pleasure they leave in his gut. 

Even worse than any of that – truly, the absolute worst part. It's not just men that catch his attention. It's Busan men. Big men. Tall men, strong men, assertive men – he admires strength, he admires a strong will, strong shoulders, a commanding presence, he respects it. But respect alone isn't enough to explain away the heat that rises under his skin. He - he wants it.

Condescending coos, pats on the head, being asked to make a saccharine sweet appeal, pretend to be so weak and helpless that it's charming, no. Jihoon hates all of that.

But an aggressive disagreement. A man getting riled up, claiming he is strong, and when challenged, proving it - Mingyu saying he can can lift both Woozi and Seungkwan, one in each arm, then lifting their weight and holding it. Yes. That.

"Sorry, hyung," he apologizes, setting Jihoon back to the ground. He's bracing for Jihoon's reaction, because he figures this is the sort of thing Jihoon hates most, but Jihoon just nods and sits back down

There's no way he'll ever explain to him the nuance between the two situations.

Mingyu and he had a type of skinship, before, as trainees. A very boyish type, Jihoon was never gentle with Mingyu - pushing, biting, pouncing on his massive playmate, and Mingyu went agreeably along with all of it, rolling when Jihoon shoved, running when Jihoon chased. Wincing and yelping when Jihoon punched or bit. As adults who can't realistically continue on like this, even without Jihoon's defensiveness, the connection between them quietly faded. But Mingyu has never been condescending about Jihoon's unfortunate reality of endless aegyo requests, and he's never repulsed. He doesn't encourage it, or cringe when it happens.

"You know I'd help you out with that if I could," he said this, very early on, when they were still making a name for themselves, after a particularly humiliating show where Jihoon had been handed a headband with floppy bunny ears and a bright red bow before they even stepped on stage. Mingyu said it solemnly, not as a joke. Respectfully, or Jihoon would like to imagine as much. This is a burden Jihoon alone carries, a sacrifice, and that's all Mingyu apparently sees it as. He never coos, never patronizes. Maybe only because he's more aware of it, how obnoxious it would be for him, of all people, to lord it over Jihoon.

He topped 190cm last month, you know. The greedy thing.

He's too long for the couch in Jihoon's studio. Jihoon checks his reflection in his monitor, every now and then, sees Mingyu's feet dangle well off the edge. It's a wide enough couch for him to lay out comfortably. This isn't a habit of Mingyu's, but Jihoon thinks he wouldn't mind much if it became one. Mingyu is a mindful guest. Not making a fuss, and he certainly won't leave a mess. 

The sound of his breathing is heavy and calming. Jihoon hears it between lulls in the music. It's an equally soothing and tempting noise. _Everything is right in the world_, and _don't you want to join me?_

It's two in the morning. He's worked later than this, but there's no immediate deadline and he feels like he's spinning in circles just now. A break seems like the most productive choice.

Jihoon drops his headphones on the desk, shuts down his studio. He turns off the light and crawls onto the couch by feel alone.

"S'okay?" Mingyu mumbles, waking briefly as Jihoon maneuvers over his body.

"Yeah. Go back to sleep," Jihoon says, patting his chest, settling between him and the back of the couch. 

Mingyu grunts, one big hand falling to the back of Jihoon's head, combing through his hair briefly, then to Jihoon's shoulder as he loses tension, and softens back to sleep.

Mingyu settles, moving one arm over his head, nestling deeper into the couch. Jihoon feels it beneath him like tremors from a shifting tectonic plate, deep inside the earth. 

Mingyu breathes. His chest rises, and falls, and Jihoon rises, and falls with it. 

He can't make sense of reaction this produces inside himself. The sound of Mingyu's heart, beating steady, firm, like anyone still alive, but in the dark, it feels profound. Mingyu's conviction, a proud, unrelenting rhythm that he carries in secret, always. 

Jihoon decides he doesn't know the conclusion yet, if this reaction is a good or bad thing, something he should try kill now, or continue to huddle around – but this is Mingyu. If nothing else, Jihoon knows it's safe to lay here with Mingyu. 

Mingyu won't make him regret it in the morning. 

X

"Morning." 

Mingyu’s blinking at him, voice gruff – he's always been shameless about his ridiculous sleeping patterns, dropping to catnap whenever and wherever he likes, so this is a version of him Jihoon has seen many times before. Expression still soft, eyes drifty and content from sleep. Mingyu is lucky. His face never swells, his eyes are never puffy, he is in a good mood and as handsome as ever.

Jihoon groans to himself, accepting the burden of finding this attractive. He closes his eyes and settles back against Mingyu's chest.

"Breakfast?" Mingyu asks.

Jihoon groans again. After a beat, he nods. 

Mingyu gives him another a moment, but when Jihoon doesn't move, he sits up. He takes Jihoon with him. Jihoon can either pull back and find balance on his own, or lean in, cling, trust Mingyu. Of course he's already climbing to his feet by the time Mingyu's upright, half asleep and somewhat unsteady. He wasn't even consciously aware of making the decision, and finds part of himself disappointed by the sudden lack of warmth, hugging his own middle. 

"Back to work already?" Mingyu asks through a yawn, running a hand through his fluffy hair as Jihoon slips his headphones on, back at his computer desk.

"Hn," Jihoon says. 

"Tsk," Mingyu shakes his head, but too tired to fight it. "I'll bring you something."

"Thanks," Jihoon says, as the door closes. 

He's still tired, so it's an easy excuse. Mingyu doesn't even question it when he comes back to the studio and finds that Jihoon's returned to the couch, curling up in what was left of their shared body heat.

Mingyu drops off the ramen, and leaves.

X

He knows the blueprints of this story, he knows how it works in fiction. He knows it well enough to write about each stage: cowardice, finding courage, confession. Heartbreak, break up. Longing. Regret. So on.

He feels completely unprepared for any of it happening in real life, though, it hardly even seems to fit. Now that Mingyu has started appearing in his thoughts, what does Jihoon want from him? From Mingyu's body? Is this just – physical lust? He doesn't think so. These twelve men are his family. They're the people he can trust most, and thinking of that brings a sense of warmth. It was that same warmth, last night, but more intense as he shared the couch with Mingyu. Would – would adding sex make it grow even warmer than that? 

But then, would it become too warm? Would Jihoon find it suffocating, would he pull back? Would it be impossible to tame back down, would he end up extinguishing it entirely to cold, empty ash, just to escape?

He doesn't know how to navigate this, not in reality, not as an actual thing in actual, real life. It distracts him the next few days, cycling in his head again and again until it finally slips out of his mouth, without his permission - 

"You make friends easily." 

Seungkwan blinks. He does a quick look around the studio, as though expecting to find the reason why Jihoon said this floating somewhere in the room.

"… _Ok_," Seungkwan finally says, in English.

"When – " Jihoon stops, and flicks the pen in his hand from side to side. 

Seungkwan's eyebrows fly upward at Jihoon's pause.

"Never mind."

"When I?" Seungkwan prompts, instincts going off immediately by Jihoon's awkward, inability to find the words. He grabs for one of the extra chairs behind him blindly, pulling it up, taking a seat at Jihoon's desk. "When you? What? When what?"

"Nothing," Jihoon says. "I don't even know what I was going to ask."

Seungkwan watches him a moment, arms crossed over the back of the chair he's slouched on. 

"Woozi," he says. "Do you want to make friends?"

"I have plenty of friends." 

"Mm," Seungkwan says, apparently remembering as much. "You do, yeah. So what's on your mind?" Seungkwan blinks at him, clearly willing to wait as long as it takes, and it occurs to Jihoon suddenly, why he attempted to start this with Seungkwan over anyone else.

_You and Hansol…_

It's probably all he would need to say, even. But he can't get it out of his mouth. He can't think of anything else to say in its place, either - Seungkwan's too smart, too curious, he can read Jihoon too well. He's not going to fall for anything he makes up.

They sit in silence, until Seungkwan sits upright, and holds out his hand. On his face is a very sweet smile, obnoxious because he knows how sweet and cute it is – Seungkwan likes that, likes being cute. _Aren't I sweet?_ it says. _Don't you want to take my hand?_

"Come on," Seungkwan says. 

Slowly, grimacing, Jihoon places his hand in Seungkwan's. Seungkwan presses it between both of his own. 

"You know, sometimes," Seungkwan says, drumming his fingers across Jihoon's palm. "People say you're lonely. Cause you work so much. But then they say, oh, Jihoon's a genius, he's so committed, he's sacrificing so much for his work."

"… What do you say?"

"Jihoon is a genius," he says. "But you’re cold. And hard to connect with. And you're okay with that, and you use work as an excuse to keep doing it."

Jihoon looks away, toward his blank monitor, unable to deny it. Any of it. 

"But.. if you _are_ lonely," Seungkwan says in a bit of a mutter. "There are a lot of people who are still willing to try anyway. If you want something from them, you wouldn’t have to reach very far."

"What will you do if it stops working with Hansol?"

The hands stiffen around Jihoon's, the atmosphere growing cold in an instant. Jihoon didn't actually realize how sweet and encouraging Seungkwan's expression was until it goes blank, dark. Gold dimming to blue. 

Jihoon didn't mean it as abrupt as that. He'd just worked up the courage to ask, and did it, before he could lose his nerve. But as the silence stretches, Jihoon realizes this is the first time he's ever verbally acknowledged the thing – Hansol's thing with Seungkwan. Maybe it's the first time Seungkwan has ever been asked. It could sound like an attack, a deflection. 

"I don't know," Seungkwan says, voice very soft, and very slow. He's clearly decided to give Jihoon the benefit of the doubt, but the tone is still a warning. "I can't see the future."

"Then how did you know," Jihoon asks, uncertain even to his own ears. "It was worth it to you?"

Seungkwan whines slightly, hands soft again, turning Jihoon's from side to side. "You know I'm supposed to say _you just know~_" he says, prissily, putting on an act. "But the _truth_." Jihoon finally looks back over, makes eye contact. "I didn't know. No one does. I just wanted it bad enough to make it happen... It's not like you don't know anything about that, you did the same thing, with Pledis. With your songs. How did you know it was worth it?"

Well. Jihoon didn't know. He just wanted it bad enough he couldn't help following the burning passion inside him. He knew he could fail, the first time he shared a song he knew the others could've laughed in his face, but he did it anyway, because – because he wanted to. And if it failed he knew he was strong enough to try again... ah. Jihoon smiles a little ruefully. Helpful Seungkwan.

"Do I get to know why you're asking?" Seungkwan asks.

"You're smart enough to figure it out," Jihoon says.

Seungkwan huffs at this easy admittance, eyes going bright and wide. He waits, yet again, but Jihoon doesn't elaborate. Seungkwan doesn't ask who, or when, or anything else, which Jihoon is grateful for. It's a quiet, supportive question, really.

"Do you know what you'll do?"

"No."

"Mmm," Seungkwan says. He reaches out, smoothing down Jihoon's bangs, adjusting them how he likes, then tracing Jihoon's ear, petting down the back of Jihoon's head. Jihoon's always liked Seungkwan. Always admired Seungkwan. Seungkwan doesn't believe it though, he gets his feelings hurt so easily, he's so tender all over, and makes such a production out of every bruise, every harsh word. He wants such abject displays of affection, and Jihoon refuses to play that game. But it's true, he thinks highly of him. How much care Seungkwan can put into a touch, how much energy he always has, and how easily he can divert it toward others. A lot of Seungkwan is performance, and a lot of that is annoying, and a lot of it is bratty, but only that. Seungkwan's needy, not malicious, and his touch is never something to flinch from. 

"Alright then," Seungkwan says, softly. "That's all? If you need to talk some more, let me know."

Jihoon nods. He doesn't watch Seungkwan leave, but waits for the door to close before putting his own hand over the back of his neck, where the warmth is still lingering, briefly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song: [Green Bird](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XJjnbhSTuqQ)


	2. Here Comes the Breath

It's gotta be Soonyoung. 

Not because Jihoon is particularly nice to Soonyoung, or anything. Seungkwan’s never caught him mooning over Soonyoung, and there's not like, super electric, love/hate chemistry between them. At least, not in front of Seungkwan. Soonyoung never hates Jihoon. Soonyoung never hates anyone, not seriously.

"Why are you like this?" Jihoon asks, when Soonyoung does something ridiculous. He sounds disgusted – like it's a direct insult, Soonyoung's goofiness. And that's the thing.

It's a reaction Seungkwan knows, because he's felt it himself, toward Hansol.

Like, when Hansol basically wakes up in the middle of an interview, utterly oblivious to the question he was asked, and Seungkwan laughs like it's nothing, but in reality wants to pinch Hansol's ear and twist. If it was anyone else it would only be funny, why would Seungkwan take Seokmin daydreaming in the middle of an interview personally? He wouldn't. He loves Seokmin like his own brother, of course, but that would only be a chance to tease him. It's different with Hansol.

It's the sort of reaction a person only has if they're _invested_, if they _care_ so deep, it's like they're sharing each other's skin. The way one of them acts reflects on the other, so they can’t help asking, what are you_ doing_, stop _embarrassing_ me. Seungkwan doesn't see Jihoon taking anyone else _personally_ like he does Soonyoung.

Jihoon didn't have to say it for Seungkwan to know that he doesn't want him speculating about this, but Seungkwan's got eyes, and a brain, and it's not like he can just shut them off. Clues pool in his mind without his permission, like: Jihoon openly admires Soonyoung's work ethic. When they get going on a project together, they're a pair of monsters, really, feeding off each other's energy, channeling it into their work. They can spend hours together, neither one of them ready to quit until they're satisfied that what they've made is perfect. They can take brutal criticism from one another without batting an eye, without taking it personally, and they depend on each other and support each other seamlessly, so – so, if it's not Soonyoung, it's a shame. 

Then again, though. If _is_ Soonyoung, Seungkwan and understand Jihoon's hesitation. There's a lot at risk. A nasty break up between Seungkwan and Hansol could be uncomfortable. Two of Seventeen's unit leaders in a nasty break up could be catastrophic. 

If Seungkwan is honest, though, one of the reasons he's favoring this so much is because part of him is sure this is going to go wrong, somehow, and he trusts Soonyoung. Soonyoung never makes light of handling someone's heart. If he returns Jihoon's feelings, or if he doesn't, Seungkwan knows he would be one of the best options in their group to maneuver around Jihoon's prickly, tricky, profoundly deep running emotions, without leaving too much damage behind. He's certainly a better option than some others Seungkwan can think of. 

"You awake?"

"Hm?" Seungkwan blinks, taking in his surroundings for the first time in what feels like hours, but they've only been in the van since Seoul.

"You're out of it," Hansol says, raising an eyebrow. _Everything ok?_

"Yeah," Seungkwan says, hand on Hansol's knee, rubbing higher up his thigh, juuuust – until – Hansol's expression shifts toward panic, _what are you doing – _ then back down again. Seungkwan grins, cheeky. Hansol huffs. 

"You tired or something?" Hansol asks, catching Seungkwan's hand in his before it can get into actual trouble. 

"Yeah," Seungkwan says. It's an obvious lie but he smiles sincere enough that Hansol knows it's not hiding anything bad. 

Hansol is not nosy, and lets it drop. "Listen," he says, slipping his headphones on Seungkwan's head, mid-song. Ahh, Seungkwan immediately recognizes the voice of Hansol's his newest music interest, a small time American solo artist. They're fine, Seungkwan doesn't mind the many, many songs of theirs Hansol sends his way, but he'd be lying if he said their greatest attribute for him wasn't the fact that Hansol found them interesting. 

Seungkwan nods along with the beat. Hansol is satisfied. 

He's not going to tell Hansol about this – thing with Jihoon. He likes to gossip as much as anyone, but he can keep a secret, and in this, he doesn't even feel the temptation to share. It's like the pride he feels when Jihoon entrusts him to share his own most tender, emotional lines in a song, carving out a spot in the music, just for Seungkwan to sing them, alone. 

Jihoon appointed Seungkwan as a confidant of this secret for a reason, _just_ Seungkwan.

If it was anyone else, it might feel more like a game. But Jihoon is so goddamn private, and Seungkwan got the impression that he didn't understand half of what he's feeling himself –

The music suddenly picks up, growing bright and happy in a loud, triumphant burst.

Seungkwan looks at Hansol in surprise, all anxiousness and concerns vanishing in an instant. Hansol mimics his surprised expression back, teasing, and Seungkwan realizes this is the moment Hansol had wanted to share with him, why he put the headphones on Seungkwan's ears to begin with, and he'd been waiting for Seungkwan's reaction to it, specifically. Seungkwan smiles wider, more sincere, mimicking the exaggerated surprise/happiness in return, and it keeps going back and forth until it's a manic thing, and Hansol pulls the headphones off Seungkwan's head. 

"It’s good," Seungkwan says, rubbing his ears. "Send it to me."

Hansol nods, pleased. 

Fun. 

Sudden clarity. Relationships should be fun. Jihoon was talking about it like a mortgage, or taxes, a doctor's visit or something.

The van pulls into the destination, and they see staff already setting up. Tables have been placed in an area that's otherwise piled with snow, with multiple selfie-sticks stacked on each. They'll be splitting up, Seungkwan thinks, wishing he had reviewed the script for today beforehand. From the number, Seungkwan is guessing they'll be spending most of today free range. 

The van parks, and everyone is slow about putting on their jackets and gloves, unenthusiastic about disembarking into the cold. Seungkwan sends Hansol off ahead. When they're some of the only ones left in the van, Seungkwan gets up from his seat, and drops into the empty one beside Jihoon, tying his boots.

"You know something that helped me decide?" Seungkwan asks.

Jihoon is confused, and Seungkwan knows the moment he figures out what Seungkwan is referring to when it switches to horror – that Seungkwan would dare bring it up again, and do it _here_, where it could be overheard. Seungkwan keeps it short, though, and his voice low.

"I could have fun with Hansol," he says. "You should try that. Having fun with someone you like."

"I – have fun," Jihoon stutters out, disarmed, but Seungkwan is already on his feet, stepping down out of the van. 

Once they're all present and accounted for, the challenge is explained. As Seungkwan hoped, about half of them are given a camera. They're told to take their time exploring the area, and to keep an eye out for anything 'unusual,' which wasn't in the script but by now they all know means prizes and punishments buried in the snow.

_Soonyoung_, Seungkwan thinks, hard, trying to send the message directly into Jihoon's head. _Go with Soonyoung. Have a fun time with Soonyoung._

Hansol ends up with Chan, so Seungkwan heads out with Wonwoo – he keeps looking back, trying to see who Jihoon ultimately pairs up with, if anyone at all. It wouldn't be out of character at all for him to head out alone, really. 

"If you want to go with someone else… " Wonwoo says, noticing his stare.

"No, I'm just being nosy," Seungkwan says, then plays it up, peering around Wonwoo's body to get a better look behind them as they head off into the snow covered hills, but they're out of sight before he sees the final pairs. 

The groups run into each other as they wander around, and Seungkwan is disappointed to eventually find Soonyoung and Seokmin together, throwing snowballs at each other. 

"Did you see who – Jeonghan went with?" Seungkwan calls, not wanting to make it too obvious.

"No!" Soonyoung shouts back.

"Scoups!" Seokmin says.

"Ah, that's no good," Wonwoo mutters. 

Seungkwan groans in agreement. Seungcheol can have a firm hand when he wants, but he usually just delighted by Jeonghan when he does something underhanded, and enables him shamelessly. "What about Woozi??" he calls out.

"Mingyu!" Soonyoung and Seokmin say together.

Mingyu. 

Seungkwan rolls his eyes. Alright. He's washing his hands of this mess. Jihoon can figure it out himself if he's going to disregard Seungkwan's advice so thoroughly, and waste a perfectly good potentially bonding fun-time with Mingyu. 

After discovering two plastic token buried in the snow, one with _FREE TRADE_ and another with _MEAL TICKET_ written on the backs, they decide it's a good enough haul, and start heading back to the site they started at. 

"Think they have lunch set up yet?" Wonwoo asks, trudging alongside him.

"They're supposed to. Hopefully – "

Jihoon's laugh. Is distinctive and loud. The sound of it catches both their attention, and it's an easy noise to follow. 

Unfortunately for Woozi, he looks very cute in his snow suit. It's just slightly too big, like most of the clothes provided to him by staff, and he looks like a child, especially next to Mingyu. 

Currently, Jihoon is kneeling next to Mingyu, who is laying on his back. Jihoon's got a massive ball of snow in his arms, which they arrive just in time to see dumped on Mingyu's head. 

Jihoon messing around with Mingyu used to be a very common sight, back when they were trainees. He was one of Jihoon's favorite playmates for physical shoving, teasing, chasing, roughhousing. Back then, Mingyu just took it, laughed along with it, never challenging Jihoon-hyung's authority. 

So Seungkwan is not expecting Mingyu to grip Jihoon by his arms when he brings the snow down, lift him up and around, and pin him to the ground beneath him. The fight isn't out of Jihoon yet though, he grabs a handful of snow, and crams it down Mingyu's shirt, or gets close enough for Mingyu to yelp, lean back. Jihoon wiggles out from under him, stumbling to his feet, and this time, Mingyu chases. 

"Neither of them have a camera," Wonwoo says, tsking slightly. "Staff should've caught that. You're filming?"

"… Yeah," Seungkwan lies. He probably should be, it's good stuff. A nice moment between friends. Mingyu catches up with Jihoon, grabs him, then tosses him back into the snow, where Jihoon disappears in a mighty puff. 

They’re flirting.

Grade school style, but flirting. A sharp howl of Jihoon’s laughter as Mingyu pounces, both of them obscured now by the snow. 

"Alright," Wonwoo says, and starts walking back toward the beginning, so Seungkwan follows. 

It's not… possible. 

Is it? 

Seungkwan teeters back and forth in his mind. Maybe he's wrong? 

Mingyu and Jihoon come trudging back, some of the last to return, absolutely coated in snow. They're rosey-cheeked and breathless, and Jihoon looks giddy. They both do. They look like a pair of kids. 

It's a nice, rare sight, so everyone else is only laughing, teasing when they announce that they found exactly 0 tokens. Seungkwan is not surprised to hear that, because it's obvious, they were too busy flirting to look. 

X

It's Mingyu. 

Mingyu.

How – how is it Mingyu?

To be clear, it's fine. It's, whatever. Seungkwan isn't going to judge, if it makes Jihoon happy, but. Mingyu. 

Not that there's anything wrong with Mingyu! But he's just – not who he would imagine Jihoon picking. He can't imagine… how that happened. Why it happened. When. Where? Was Seungkwan in the room?? Was it right under his nose, when Mingyu stole Jihoon's fickle, fluttering little heart? 

Shock is shifting to marveling – at this chances of this in particular happening, and indeed all of mother nature's surprising wonders. What a strange and magical place the world is, for something like this to happen in it. 

Seungkwan watches Mingyu now, as he cooks in their kitchen. 

He's in the zone, whistling as he goes. He moves confidently, one of the rare times he's not known to be clumsy. Is this what attracts Jihoon? Or is the clumsy stuff? Does he find that – charming? 

"Hey, we should have pear wine tonight."

"Huh?" Seungkwan asks in time with Minghao, the only other one in the kitchen.

"Everyone's in a good mood, right?" Mingyu says. "Our schedule's free tomorrow. We're gonna start having a full practice schedule soon. We should celebrate while we can." 

Minghao shrugs. 

"… Sure," Seungkwan says. 

Pear wine is one of the only types of alcohol Jihoon can consume without his allergy flaring up. Why does Mingyu want Jihoon to drink tonight, is what Seungkwan wants to ask, also, what the hell is going on? But in reality, he knows Mingyu is only being courteous, making sure that Jihoon can join in, and even suggesting otherwise is bizarre. 

It's Mingyu's idea, but he's busy cooking so Seungkwan places the order, six bottles of _gwasilju_ from an online delivery service. Also, dessert.

No one thinks twice about it when it's set out on the table, though Seungcheol makes a point of getting his own alcohol out, so as not to take any from Jihoon.

"It's six bottles," Jihoon says, waving his hand across the spread. "I'm not drinking all that alone if I try."

"Still, though," Seungcheol says, and sticks to the dorm's stash, just to make sure that Jihoon can drink as much as he likes.

Seungkwan makes a quiet, distressed noise when they pop the first bottle, though he can't really put a finger on why, not until Hansol elbows him in concern. 

"What's with you?" he asks.

_Things are moving too fast,_ he almost says. But he doesn't have any evidence of that, that anything is, in fact, moving at all. He doesn't even know if Mingyu is interested in Jihoon! And even if he is, Seungkwan has, literally, no guess what would happen if they decided to go down that road together. No reason to believe it'd be anything _bad_. It just – seems – very risky. 

Protective. He's feeling protective. It's a surprising realization. Jihoon is one of the last people in the world who need people fretting over him, but – this is. Different. Instinctively, Seungkwan can tell. Jihoon needs some guidance when it comes to – this. And he's not sure Mingyu's up to it, not like – someone else would be. Someone like Soonyoung, his mind provides, in a quick rush. 

Seungkwan licks his lip, then leans in to Hansol, whispering quiet enough that not even Jeonghan sitting on his other side would be able to hear. 

"Help me keep an eye on Jihoon-hyung tonight."

Hansol's head literally tilts, full to the side, like a dog, brow creasing in confusion. _Jihoon?_ he mouths, to make sure. 

Seungkwan nods, quickly. 

"… Alright," Hansol says, eyes sliding to the other side of the table, just in time for them both to watch as Jihoon accepts a challenge from Chan, tips his head back, and downs his drink in one go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song: [Closer](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=26pEFumqzyE)


	3. My Eyes on Your Eyes

Mingyu can't remember exactly how old he was the first time he interrupted a member in the middle of jerking off. 

It was before they made their debut, at least, on an overnight trip to Suwon. They had all been crammed into two small hotel rooms, the four beds and two couches to split between the lot of them. 

Seungcheol woke up uncharacteristically early, and shuffled to the bathroom. 

There are some members who are particular and protective of their privacy; Jeonghan needs solid, uninterrupted time alone in the washroom, and so does Minghao and Chan. But Seungcheol never cared much about sharing space. He's never bothered if his shower is interrupted by another member brushing their teeth, or using the toilet, or whatever else. Mingyu is the same, so he didn't risk waking the rest of their members by knocking on the bathroom door, simply walking in with a muttered apology. 

Between being basically still asleep and the sudden brightness of the lights, it takes him a beat to make sense of what he just walked in on – Seungcheol, leaning forward with an elbow on his knee, eyes pinching shut, mouth slack. An unusual expression. Mingyu blinked, and his eyes dropped, slowly, to Seungcheol's other hand, at his crotch, wrapped around his dick. And his dick: hard, flushed dark with arousal, thick.

As soon as he saw it, Mingyu remembered Seungcheol's shuffle as he moved past Mingyu's bed, the particular way he had been shifting his weight that Mingyu could've, probably _should've_, picked up on – the distinct gait of a teenager with an erection. 

"Sorry," Mingyu mumbled, quickly, bowing as he backed out of the bathroom, closing the door. "Sorry, sorry."

These sorts of moments are inevitable when over a dozen teenagers live in such intensely close quarters, all the time. Signs that a member has been seeing himself done are common, and ignored, unless especially gross or obnoxious. Too long spent in the shower, growing suspiciously still and quiet after rolling to face the wall in the early morning, a locked bedroom door at odd hours – you simply look the other way. 

It's annoying at times, but manageable, usually. Usually. 

Sometimes not. 

Like, one morning, years later, when Mingyu wakes to lewd noises coming from Wonwoo's side of the room. They're quiet sounds, soft moans and sighs, but so unrestrained it's obvious Wonwoo is still asleep. 

Mingyu blinks up at the ceiling. He throws his arm over his eyes. 

Would waking Wonwoo up be worse than trying to ignore it? Maybe, but either way, Mingyu knows it's what he _ought_ to do. He ought to throw a pillow across the room. Make a joke about it when Wonwoo wakes up, confused and disoriented, so it doesn't get weird. Mingyu can picture all this all playing out in his head, but finds himself stuck.

Louder than Wonwoo's soft noises are the movements in his bed, the shifting sheets, the adjusting blanket. Aborted, sloppy. Wonwoo's struggling – maybe the sheets are preventing him from getting a decent grip, maybe he's resorted to grinding against the mattress. 

Trying to connect the noises to an image is his undoing: Mingyu is growing hard. He closes his eyes, swallows, and tries to gauge his own self-restraint. 

Can he realistically get through this without doing something shameful? He knows the answer pretty immediately. 

Mingyu grips his cock, and groans, deep and low in his throat in satisfaction. 

It's going to be fast, the excitement flaring to life under his skin, hot and ready, fed by the sounds in the bed beside him. He's not thinking of Wonwoo, specifically, but the energy from Wonwoo's actions are undeniably erotic. It’s weirdly intimate, but Mingyu tries to keep his mind blank as he rocks his hips up, and up, into his hand. 

He ends up carding through disjointed images in his head, memories and fantasies. Bare thighs, flexing and dewy with sweat. A pair of tight jeans, framing the healthy, round shape of two full cheeks. He thinks of physical contact. The push and pull of playful resistance, wrestling, a warm body beneath his, pinned, surrendering to his strength – willing, welcoming his touch, aroused by it – 

Mingyu comes first, breath catching as he thrusts up into his hand, riding out the afterclaps. 

He's left dazed by it, but the mess in his hand, the mess in his shorts, wakes him up properly once he comes back down. He should've planned this better. Grunting in disgust, Mingy quietly creeps from the room to wash up. 

Wonwoo is at peace by the time he returns, on his side, relaxed, breathing slow.

There's no need to mention it in the morning. 

And so it goes. Mostly unspoken. There are some particularly shameless members, and some who make jokes about that, but it's just a fact of their unique life. Dormmates will get to know one another in this way. Their habits. Their rhythm. Jeonghan is frank and precise, setting boundaries clearly. Hansol simply does as he likes as long as no one complains, Joshua is courteous, and flexible, only a few requests for privacy and a locked door the only indication that he ever gets up to anything at all. Generally, Mingyu knows what to expect.

Except Jihoon.

Mingyu's been rooming with Jihoon years now, and Jihoon isn't really a member who needs privacy like that – he likes his time alone but he doesn't mind changing with other members or staff in the room, coming and going freely in their shared bathroom. He's too practical to care. After so many years of sharing a room, Mingyu should know this side of him, but it remains a mystery. A blank, unfilled space. 

Mingyu knows one answer, but he's not convinced it's the full truth. Jihoon's awkwardness with girls was something he was teased about when they were younger, the fact that he never dated, never showed interest in any girl or any one in particular. Never kissed. As they got older, it stopped. It got less funny. The other members have all had their various romantic episodes, with various levels of success, but as far as Mingyu knows, Jihoon never has. Jihoon's never tried.

He's never once given any indication that he has this sort of need, at all. Even after all this time, Mingyu's yet to see him do anything in his bed outside of curling up in sleep, his dreams apparently the innocent sort that leave his nights undisturbed, peaceful, and quiet. Lonely pinwheels and angels.

Maybe there's something that could be asked about that, but it's only fair to afford him the same respect he gives everyone else. 

He looks the other way.

X

Jihoon likes sports. He's good them, too, tenacious and smart, easily closing the gaps between himself and bigger players. 

When he was younger, he was in a baseball league. 

Once, he told Mingyu that he wished he could've gone into it seriously – gone pro. 

Mingyu laughed in response, and he regretted it instantly. The noise sounded like a disbelieving scoff, like – Mingyu was mocking him. He hadn't meant it like that. It was just that, it _is_ an impossible dream, and Jihoon is _so_ practical, so concerned with looking cool, basically all the time, it was the last thing Mingyu expected Jihoon-hyung of all people to say. 

Mingyu knows others like it when Jihoon wears a cutesy expression or floppy animal ears on his head, but seeing him toss the ball in the air, catch it, then say, very seriously, that he could've been a professional baseball player – it was the cutest Mingyu had ever seen him.

The laughter came from that, because it was nice to see that sort of guileless, uncensored version of his hyung. But Mingyu couldn't exactly say that, and Jihoon clammed right up, embarrassed, and never mentioned his impossible dream in full again. 

Next time they talk about it, Jihoon is more reserved. Edited down. 

"If I had stayed in Busan, I would've been on the high school team." Simple. Cool. Believable, and no one laughs. 

Jihoon knows himself well, knows how he looks, and how people react to him. He's always got his image in mind, even when he's acting goofy, pulling a silly face. Mingyu can tell that most of the time, it's measured, it's the face Jihoon wants people to see at that particular time. 

There are moments when Jihoon's surprised, or distracted, and he slips, but they're short, a handful of seconds, and the occasions where he really lets go have become rarer and rarer as they get older. 

Mingyu is certainly not expecting today to be one those rare times. 

"_Hey_."

Jihoon's tone is sharp, like he's annoyed as he comes tromping through the snow, up the hill behind him. 

Mingyu's already half apologizing to his hyung for whatever unknown offense he's committed when a small, compact snowball pelts into his chest. 

Mingyu takes a step back in surprise, half laughing, when he's hit with another one. Jihoon is already bending to make a third, when he looks up, eyebrows raised. 

_You aren't going to put up a fight?_

It's too late to stop the third attack, but Mingyu's excited to be invited to play this game, lifting his arm in a futile attempt to block as he bends, reaching for his own ammunition. 

Jihoon's got aim on his side, and he always compacts the snow until they're as solid and cruel as little rocks. The snow is too light for this technique today, but there have been times when Woozi's snowballs have left sore, red marks on some members. 

Mingyu doesn't bother with any of that. He grabs two quick, massive handfuls, _whump, whump_, one after another flying true, hitting Jihoon– they don't hit as hard, but they make a bigger mess, and Jihoon falls back, sputtering as the snow explodes, gets in his face. 

They go on like this. Jihoon is equally ruthless and playful, Mingyu knows better than to show any mercy, using every advantage he has, thrilling when it makes Jihoon's smile grow, makes him laugh in surprise. 

Mingyu's properly forgotten why they're even there to begin with by the time he's tackled Jihoon to the ground, snow turning into a cloud around them. Ah, white snow, white skin, dark eyes, pink cheeks, a real smile – it's worth a picture. Jihoon's hands pushing up against Mingyu's chest, but it's a token protest, he knows he's not going to dislodge Mingyu's weight. Even that seems to please him.

Eventually he'll have to climb off Jihoon, and he hates the idea, sure it will break this spell, so he tries to imprint this in his mind, as much as he can.

Once they get home, Mingyu's hardly surprised when Jihoon vanishes back to his dorm. Probably to sleep. He probably won't see him the next few days unless he decides to make the trip to Jihoon's studio... 

He's in the middle of making dinner when he gets the idea.

"We should get pear wine tonight."

X

Typically, members take dinner whenever they want, and meander off the rest of the night, but the alcohol lures them all out. And really, the orbit of Jihoon of in a good mood is hard to escape. As each member approaches, they end up caught in it, lingering around the kitchen, sitting at the table, or spilling into the couches in the next room. 

By the time they finish eating it's loud and chaotic, two drinking games in progress, one especially loud round of Smash Brothers in the living room, a card game, and a lot of laughter and shouting, members reminding each other to be courteous neighbors, before that very same member forgets themselves and stomps, clapping in laughter. 

Jihoon lost the last hand, and gets up, moving to stand behind Mingyu's chair. First he's just looking over his shoulder at his cards, every so often leaning into whisper instructions into Mingyu's ear, pointing at one card or another in his hand. 

Everyone wants Jihoon's approval. Jihoon knows it, and he's stingy with it, giving out small doses at a time and fickle enough to change his mind at the wrong word and take it all back. Getting a steady stream like this is heady. Even when Mingyu disregards his choice and it ends up losing him the round. Jihoon just hums thoughtfully at his next hand.

As the night goes on, he gets more open with his touches, staring at Mingyu's face. Smoothing down his eyebrow. Messing with his bangs. Tightening his grip around Mingyu's shoulders, lifting his feet from the floor, bracing his weight, forcing Mingyu to hold it. 

Something about this is familiar… but not from Jihoon. Mingyu's brow is creased in thought, and on his third drink, when it clicks. 

If – Jihoon was a girl. If he was a particularly hyper Soonyoung or needy Jeonguhan, or just someone else. Anyone else. A stranger. Mingyu would think he was – flirting?

The next time Jihoon's hand comes into view, Mingyu grips it. Twining their fingers together. His heart is racing, not quite able to believe it when Jihoon stiffens in surprise, then allows it. Jihoon doesn't like skinship and Mingyu knows it's not a joke. He should be recoiling, but instead, he relaxes against Mingyu's shoulders, and runs his thumb across the back of Mingyu's hand. After a bit, he even shakes their joined hands back and forth, playfully. 

Doubting his own senses, Mingyu looks up, around the table, and locks eyes with Seungkwan, who has clearly been watching.

Seungkwan doesn't say anything, just raises an eyebrow, and looks back at his own cards. He noticed. He can tell what's going on. 

In a way, Mingyu is grateful, because it's confirmation that this isn't just wishful thinking. In another, he's a little annoyed. Because now he wants to call it a night, see if Jihoon will keep their fingers locked together all the way to their dorm – 

"Hey, after this hand, let's play Mario Kart," Hansol suggests. 

There's quick agreement from the rest of the table, and Mingyu looks between the two of them, Seungkwan and Hansol. It's like they've got a telepathic link. 

They join the video games in the living room, and Mingyu tries to imagine what he would do with Jihoon, if they did go to the dorm together right now, hands linked... he could say he wasn't interested, but that would be a lie. Jihoon is pretty, and has an edge of viciousness that's exciting, a tease. He pictures now, their moment in the snow, earlier, if he had surged forward in an impulsive kiss. He imagines Jihoon returning it with a sharp bite, expression taunting, the same daring, challenging look. _Are you going down without a fight?_

"You two are getting along well," Joenghan laughs, ruffling Jihoon's hair, on top of his head, which he's rested on Mingyu's shoulder as the games go late into the night. 

"Mm," Jihoon says, voice especially husky. He pokes at Mingyu's cheek. He doesn't bother to answer. This isn't even that weird, if you're not looking close. Members have periods of being very close, then drifting apart, seasons of friendships that wax and wane. 

Maybe this is a new season for Mingyu and Jihoon.

"I'm getting up," he mumbles to Jihoon, because it's the courteous thing to do when someone's leaning against you like he is. Jihoon sits upright. He stretches. The soft groan as he reaches high, eyes closing at how nice the pull on his muscle feels, settles it. Mingytu swallows. "I'm – going to bed."

"Night," the other members answer. But it was directed toward Jihoon. It was a tentative invitation. 

Jihoon has a flawless poker face. But there's a beat before he nods to acknowledges what Mingyu said that lets him know, he heard the intent. 

When Mingyu leaves, Jihoon stands. He crosses his arms, drifting to the back, watching the rest of them play for a moment, then quietly follows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song: [Tongue Tied](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JwB-iVAfnMo).
> 
> Sorry, I have most of the sex scene written but I realized it wasn't going to be done tonight and I didn't want to wait another week to update. Next is Hansol/Seungkwan + Mingyu/Jihoon foursome.


	4. 1.55cm

_They left_. 

Seungkwan looks at the door, then to Hansol, one eyebrow going high, like this is something scandalous. Like, Hansol won't believe it either, that Mingyu and Jihoon decided to go to bed. 

"They're just going to sleep," Hansol says.

Seungkwan shakes his head like this answer isn't good enough. He gets up from the couch, leaving Hansol alone, staring after.

Hansol's not entirely sure what's going on. He knows that Jihoon has Seungkwan's full, urgent attention, but not why, and he would've assumed that if anything, Jihoon calling it a night would be a relief. He can't cause any problems if he's asleep, right? 

Apparently not, and whatever's going on might actually be serious, too, because Seungkwan's been tight-lipped about it, keeping his reactions contained and quiet. He really doesn't want the other members to notice.

When Seungkwan gets like this, so agitated and worked up, he reminds Hansol of a rabbit – full of jittery, aimless energy. Shaking in place, struggling to contain it all inside until it finally bursts out in panicked stabs. It can get exhausting sometimes, and when he was younger he could get irritated by it, but – now, Hansol just finds it cute. 

Hansol likes watching Seungkwan, and when he's fussing and fretting, trying to organize everything until it's just-so. Get the camera angle exactly right, make sure these two members sit together during the promotion, avoid this topic, say this joke, hit this note, roll up his sleeves in crisp, precise motions to exactly the right length according to his mysterious vision, tsking when he sees the angle Hansol's tie has fallen askew, scolding him for being reckless as he adjusts it... _'what is this? Bibimbap sauce?? Were you eating just now? Aaahhh, seriously??'_ muttered in rapid frustration, not waiting once for Hansol's response.

It's just. Cute. 

Hansol is tipsy, and his mind is swimming in these kinds of affectionate thoughts, so when Seungkwan leaves, Hansol isn't far behind, trailing after like a toy being tugged along by a string.

He finds himself led not to the hall where the bedrooms are, but the bathroom just outside of that – where Seungkwan is hiding in the doorway, light off. He sees Hansol coming, and tugs him in. 

"What – "

"_Shh_," Seungkwan says, pointing. 

Down the hall, just outside the door of their room, are Mingyu and Jihoon. They're talking, but too far away for Hansol to make out what they're saying. Jihoon keeps ducking his head, and Mingyu is at angle that makes it impossible to see his expression. Hansol tries to guess what they could be talking about, but quickly feels weird about the whole stituation. 

This is a private moment, and he has no business spying on it. 

"Listen, listen," Seungkwan says, when he sees the expression on Hansol's face. "This is a secret, okay?" 

Seungkwan closes his eyes, pressing his hands together in front of him, like he's bracing himself to withstand the sheer importance of what he's about to say, like it's a matter of life or death. 

Thinking for a moment this might not just be serious, but something actually bad – _drugs, maybe??_ is the one guess his baffled mind comes up with – Hansol braces himself, too.

"Jihoon-hyung is interested in in Mingyu."

_... Seriously?_ Hansol stares flatly.

"What? Didn't you – _see_??" Seungkwan asks, disbelieving, waving his hand at the room they just exited.

"I saw, but..." Hansol says, distracted by the fragile, narrow shape of Seungkwan's wrist waving back and forth hypnotically. Mingyu and Jihoon were getting along, sure, but Hansol hadn't thought too much about it. Even Jihoon has his clingy phases, especially if he's tired. "How do you know?"

"Jihoon-hyung _told me_," Seungkwan says. "But – they don't know what they're doing."

Hansol honestly isn't sure how this translates to a crisis to Seungkwan. "I think they can figure it out."

"That's – !" Seungkwan starts, and stops, and now it clicks. Hansol knows what he was going to say. _That's the problem_, but he obviously realized that would be crazy to say. "They can't – Jihoon-hyung can't – and with _Mingyu?_ If it goes wrong – "

"So what are you trying to do?" Hansol asks. "You can't stop them."

"I know that!"

"You can't MC them fucking, either."

Aaah. That does it. Seungkwan's mouth snaps shut with a sharp, offended inhale. 

A _pout_ blossoms on Seungkwan's face instead.

Hansol can't help the low moan at the sight, it's such a furious pout... Seungkwan's so frustrated... It's terrible when it gets like this, but Hansol is dropping quickly from drunk to love drunk, and Seungkwan is simply too enticing to resist. He's creeping in closer, hand resting on his waist, sliding down to his narrow hip. 

He really needs to take Seungkwan's concerns seriously or he'll get even more worked up, but with red lips jutting out so shamelessly bratty, all Hansol can think about is kissing him. 

As Seungkwan is inhaling for a second wind, Hansol surges forward, interrupting him. 

"Hansol," Seungkwan protests, but kisses back, wrapping his arms around Hansol's shoulders. "I'm serious."

Hansol mumbles something like, _I know_, but doesn't bother to open his eyes, refusing to be distracted from kissing Seungkwan with enough force to get him backed against the wall of the bathroom, thigh between his legs. 

Fuck. Suddenly there's a lot he wants to do. Suddenly it feels like, how did he get this lucky? That he can do this whenever he wants? Touch Seungkwan whenever he wants? Wherever? How can he do anything but take advantage of it? He wants Seungkwan tonight, wants to taste him, feel him come, wants to feel it happening under his hands. He wants to hear it happening, a shivering, desperate cry, _Hansol!_ He knows what it will sound like, because he's heard it before. He could make it happen again, if Seungkwan lets him.

"Kwannie?" Hansol asks, just this side of pleading. He opens his eyes, finds Seungkwan staring into his, fogged up with the same lust and interest. _Come on, come on,_ Hansol thinks, hands resting on Seungkwan's hips, then to the small of his back, resting his fingers against the tempting swell of his ass... they have so, so many better things they could be doing tonight instead of pestering Mingyu and Jihoon... 

But no. The urgency of Seungkwan's self-imposed mission clears his gaze.

"I just want to make sure everything's okay," he finally says, in a pitiful sort of way, fingers trailing down to fiddle with the buttons on Hansol's shirt. 

Hansol knows defeat when he sees it. Like this, Seungkwan will not be distracted, and worse, like this, Hansol would go along with it even if Seungkwan said he was off to rob a liquor store. If all Seungkwan wants to do is cockblock Mingyu and Jihoon, he can't offer much protest.

Hansol sighs. He allows Seungkwan free, to twist out of the embrace, and they both return to watching the scene between Mingyu and Jihoon play out. 

"... Huh," Hansol says.

So: Hansol likes it best when his members are confident. 

He's always been sensitive to it when someone gets caught out by a question or becomes a target during a game. Hansol isn't the sort of person who can fix it when it starts happening, but Seungkwan is. When it's that, Seungkwan can fix almost anything, intervene and redirect smoothly. Seungkwan says a joke, or short story, and like magic they move on to the next subject. 

Around the corner, Jihoon is – uncertain, Hansol thinks, in a way that reminds him of those moments. 

One of his hands is gripping Mingyu's shirt, but his gaze is straight forward, at Mingyu's chest, only looking up at Mingyu's face in short glances. 

Mingyu takes Jihoon's hand, pulls it free, and twines their fingers together. Jihoon finally looks up to meet Mingyu's gaze, steadily. 

It's still impossible to see Mingyu's face, but all expression drains from Jihoon's. 

Sudden, palpable tension. 

Mingyu starts bending in close. He's going for a kiss, and Jihoon's expression goes blank, eyes darting across Mingyu's face. 

It's strange, because in Hansol's mind, Jihoon is an imposing figure; powerful and confident. In moments like this, though, from a distance, his hand dwarfed almost entirely by Mingyu's – it's jarring, it's unsettling, how tiny he is in reality. So that might be part of it. 

But, for just a moment, from this angle, it almost looks like Jihoon is afraid. 

And, in that moment, Hansol can't help looking toward Seungkwan, wanting him to go – fix it. 

X

Mingyu knows better than to ever go easy on Jihoon. 

Once he gets an opening – once they're finally alone, and Jihoon is still touching, still wanting – a little nervous, maybe, but he's holding to Mingyu's shirt like he doesn't want him going anywhere – Mingyu kisses him. 

The height difference is one Mingyu knows by now. Jihoon's about as tall as the girl's he's kissed, and he very familiar with this deep bend, with placing his hands for best leverage to draw Jihoon in close, one on his lower back, the other at his neck.

His lips touch Jihoon's, and for a moment it doesn't seem real, a sudden jolt of reality – but Mingyu recovers quickly. He kisses with force, with everything he has, aggressive, pushing their lips together and bracing for Jihoon's inevitable, feisty, response. 

But Jihoon's not feisty. He doesn't react at all. Doesn't make a sound, lips lax and still beneath Mingyu's. 

If it was anyone else, that would be a warning, but Jihoon is often like this. He will often wait, blank-faced, until someone gives him a good enough reason to respond, so Mingyu huffs, and tries again. 

Harder, bringing his hand to Jihoon's chin, tilting it up higher for a better angle – 

A sharp, horrified chill when this time Jihoon _does_ react. 

Going stiff as a board beneath him, swaying back with the force of the kiss, away. Jihoon is clearly unwilling. 

"I – sorry," Mingyu chokes out, backing off, lifting his hands up and away. 

Did Mingyu misread this entire – situation?? He must have, because Jihoon's lips against his pinched so tight together they shook, and now Jihoon is wincing, eyes shut tight, holding his breath like he's expecting a sudden fall. 

Numb horror rises. Mingyu breaks everything, all the time, he's constantly just too big to be allowed, using too much force, not paying enough attention, and the idea of his thoughtless force breaking not an object, but a _person_, breaking _Jihoon_ – "Sorry, I thought – you wanted – "

"Stop. Stop apologizing," Jihoon hisses out, clearly embarrassed, eyes still pinched shut. He grips Mingyu's shirt tighter when he tries to step further back. Holding Mingyu in place. He doesn't want Mingyu to go anywhere. He's not hurt, he's not mad, and that's a relief. He's just – he's just, what? Being gracious about Mingyu's mistake?

"That was – sorry, I won't try that again," Mingyu promises, weakly, and _that_ makes Jihoon exhale, frustrated and pained. His gaze drops to the floor, too humiliated to say anything else, leaving it to Mingyu to guess. 

An awkward silence falls because Jihoon doesn't say a word, but doesn't let go, and all Mingyu can think to say is yet another apology, which is the only thing Jihoon told him not to say. 

He doesn't know how to fix this.

"Why aren't you two in bed already??"

Seungkwan. Walking toward them. He's doing a fake, peppy voice, with a fake peppy smile, the kind he uses for variety shows. 

He must have seen the entire thing, and Mingyu's face heats miserably. 

"We're going now," Jihoon says, reaching behind him and opening the door, but before they can disappear inside, Seungkwan's reached them. 

Arm sliding over Jihoon's shoulders, Seungkwan cups his hand over Jihoon's ear, whispering something. 

Mingyu can't hear the words, but Jihoon shakes his head _no_, sharply. 

Seungkwan's expression shifts. He whispers something else, longer. 

Mingyu's stomach sinks, and he backs off, as far as he can, the three full steps to the wall on the other side. Seungkwan's not exactly being subtle, it's obvious he's trying to rescue Jihoon from this situation, giving occasional cool glances toward Mingyu out the cut of his eye. How it must have looked, to Seungkwan, stumbling on the scene. Like Mingyu just – did it, like he was forcing it on Jihoon. He bites his tongue on the urge defend himself, and maybe his eyes start to sting a little – which is ridiculous, it's the alcohol, but also of how stupidly high he had allowed his hopes to get. This wouldn't be so bad if the rest of the day hadn't been so good. 

Jihoon makes a sudden noise of annoyance, half heartedly tugging away from Seungkwan, but not enough to actually break free. "No," he says, firmly. "I still – want – " He stops.

Seungkwan watches Jihoon a long beat, frowning in thought. Finally, he sighs, and reaches behind them to push open the bedroom door. He backs inside as if it was his own room, and brings Jihoon with him.

"_Mingyu-hyung_," Seungkwan says as they go, lightly scolding – fake again. "What was that? Have you really never kissed anyone before?"

What a weird thing to say. Seungkwan _knows_ Mingyu has had his share of experience, he's had more than one semi-regular partner, but before he can remind him of that, Seungkwan's expression goes heavy, warning. It's telling Mingyu to play along, and it's enough for Mingyu to piece together what Seungkwan must have already figured out. 

That was _Jihoon's_ first kiss. 

Ah. 

_Aaah._

Mingyu crosses his arms, rubs at the back of his neck. 

Jihoon has been pulled against Seungkwan's chest, and isn't resisting, still looking at the floor with conflicted frustration that makes a lot more sense now. This is a better scenario than what Mingyu had been worried about, but he still feels bad for going so hard. He wouldn't have done that to anyone else, it's just – the idea that Jihoon wouldn't be able to keep up hadn't so much as entered his head. 

Mingyu can only assume its that reason that Seungkwan looks like he doesn't want to let Jihoon go. 

Seungkwan mutters something under his breath about the two of them being hopeless, then, looking behind Mingyu's shoulder, says, "Close the door."

Mingyu turns to see Hansol. He shrugs in quasi-apology for his presence, like – sorry, he can't help it, Seungkwan's in here, so obviously that's where Hansol has to be, too. 

"Like this, Mingyu. Ok? Pay attention," Seungkwan says, in English. He directs his attention to Jihoon, raising his brows in question – imploring. Jihoon shifts his head slightly to the side. They're having a silent conversation, the kind Mingyu's seen before, when they're harmonizing. 

Eventually, Jihoon nods.

Seungkwan is gentle. Very gentle, and Jihoon is still grimacing a bit, but Seungkwan is slow, and careful, bringing their lips together. A short, chaste kiss, eyes sliding shut. Seungkwan keeps them closed as he pulls back, just slightly, then goes for a second. His hands stay on Jihoon's shoulders, one against the side of his neck, and as he keeps up the patient, undemanding pace, the tension visibly eases from Jihoon's body.

It must ease from Jihoon's mouth, too, because Seungkwan sighs out a pleased, soft murmur, and the next kiss is deeper, lingering. 

Jihoon's hand moves in what appears to be instinct, up to Seungkwan's neck, resting lightly at first, then settling with more confidence as the kiss continues. A soft, wet sound next time their lips connect, both of their eyes shut.

Mingyu hears a low groan and realizes its coming from himself. 

Jihoon pauses at the noise, and they both look toward Mingyu, and when he shrugs, a little sheepish. He didn't know he was into this kind of thing, watching, but apparently it really, really is.

Hansol appears to agree, hand at his crotch, which his shameless, but it's his gaze, so focused and intense on the scene, that makes Mingyu start in surprise.

"_Vernon_," Seungkwan hisses out, sounding equally scandalized and delighted.

"Sorry," Hansol says. "It looks – good."

Seungkwan whines like this annoys him immensely to hear, but he's too invested to stop and scold Hansol properly. Hansol grins, obviously finding it cute. 

Mingyu's not going to pretend he understands how their relationship works, why Hansol is the one apologizing here, but he knows now is not the time to look a question a good thing. 

"Keep going?" he asks, hopefully. 

This attention from Hansol and Mingyu has made Jihoon, understandably, suspicious. He starts to pull away from the scene, when Seungkwan leans in, whispering another secret, just between them. 

Whatever it is appears to work, because after a beat, Jihoon nods. 

Aah, he's feeling bashful now though, ducking his head enough that Seungkwan has to bend a bit to catch his lips, lift his head upright again. 

Seungkwan builds up the next kiss, getting hotter now, more intense, his arms dropping to Jihoon's waist, pulling him in closer. Jihoon does not resist. They're in an embrace, bodies pressed close, legs tangled together, by the time their mouths open, a lewd, sinful wet noise as their tongues meet. 

Jihoon shivers, breath catching. Here, this movement, Jihoon's obviously more comfortable with, rolling his hips forward, suggestive.

"Shit," Hansol says, softly. Mingyu groans in agreement, so stiff it's becoming a steady, pleasurable ache.

Jihoon keeps going, using what Seungkwan's taught him, shifting his weight, tilting his head the way Seungkwan just demonstrated, pushing back into Seungkwan's mouth. Seungkwan moans, surprised, allowing it.

When they break apart, they're both flushed pink, Seungkwan rests their foreheads together, brushing his thumbs against the apples of Jihoon's cheeks. This moment between them. Jihoon's expression exposed, open, and Seungkwan's touches, his hands, fingers long and pretty, so delicate and careful and intimate, everything about this makes Mingyu's cock twitch again in rabid, but confused interest. Does he want to join this scene? How? It feels like it would bruise and warp under his clumsy touch.

Seungkwan looks toward Mingyu now, expression both unimpressed and expectant. Just beneath him, Jihoon also turns to look, cheeks warmed pink, licking his lips. He's got a taste of Seungkwan and now looks like he wants to get a sampling of Mingyu, too. 

The double barrel of both gazes is intense, and the hottest goddamn thing Mingyu has ever seen in his life. 

"Got it?" Seungkwan asks. 

Alright.

His turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter song: [Jihoon's inability to get any closer than 1.55cm](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8DQmbV4BXIE)
> 
> I'm sorry I've literally never ended a chapter in the middle of a sex scene before, but I really wanted to show that I'm still working on this and I promised in blood that I would update this before going to the OTY concert which is in 5 hours. Thank you for your patience.


End file.
